


Where You Never Were

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Dean x Reader, Drama, F/M, Impala Sex, Sex, Smut, Superwho, daddy!dean, doctor who - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-10-20 22:24:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17630831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: Dean discovers a legacy he never knew he would have.





	1. Chapter 1

The interior of the car was steamed up, filled with the heat of you and Dean moving together. His lips still carried the faint taste of whiskey as you kissed him, cupping his face with both hands like you might float away if you didn’t hold on.

Dean groaned, sitting up to drag you underneath his larger body, pushing back into you with one smooth stroke. It was a dance you’d both become familiar with and repeated over and over. You’d hunt, drink, fuck and ignore everything else.

On more than one occasion in the past six months you’d been doing this, Sam had voiced the unhealthy attitude of your relationship. Dean was using you as a crutch to deal with his own issues and you were letting him purely because you’d loved him since you were both teenagers.

You hadn’t meant for it to go this far. But being with him, even like this, was addictive. Dean didn’t love you, not like you wanted, but the crumbs of affection kept you by his side.

“I’m gonna cum,” Dean gasped, lifting your leg to drive his cock deeper into your slick passage and you arched, feeling your hair catch on the seams of the leather upholstery. The feel of his thick seed pumping into you was overwhelming and you came with him, clutching at his shoulder with one hand and the back of the seat with the other.

He didn’t pull away, kissing you until you were panting for breath, giggling against his mouth as he reached for his discarded pants.

Both of you dressed quickly, shooting glances at the other before getting into the front seats. Dean opened the windows, airing the car out, sitting back with one arm slung over the back of your seat.

“Suppose we should head back,” he muttered. Since Sam’s last intervention attempt, he’d been reluctant to do anything with you in the bunker, which meant the Impala was the location for most of your clandestine encounters. Sometimes Dean would be a little adventurous and fuck you behind some seedy bar or in a dark club where no one could see.

“Yeah,” you sighed, letting your head fall back as the happy hormones continued to sap your energy. “God, I don’t even smoke and I want a cigarette when you’re done with me.”

Dean laughed under his breath, sitting forward and turning the key in the ignition. “I’m never done with you, baby.”

You wished that were true. But Dean wasn’t yours. As much of his time as you took up, he always let his eye wander. The blonde you’d caught sucking him off in the backroom of the dive in Chicago last week was enough evidence that he wasn’t considering this an exclusive thing.

His phone started to ring when you were halfway back to the bunker and Dean answered, greeting his brother by name. You couldn’t hear the conversation but the way Dean’s face soured with each moment of silence only made your stomach drop.

The happy hormones vacated and left you with a blackness seeping into your chest.

He hung up with a curt acknowledgment and remained quiet for a few moment after. You squirmed in your seat, shoving your hands under your ass, still able to feel the stickiness of him between your thighs.

“Everything okay?” you prompted quietly.

“Huh?” Dean glanced at you like he’d forgotten you were even there.

It hurt.

Clearing your throat, you tried again. “What did Sam say?”

“Oh. Just a hunt.”

You raised an eyebrow. “A hunt?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, sounding bored, “but we don’t need you. It’s a simple one.”

“Oh, okay,” you replied meekly, sinking into your seat and despising yourself for letting it get to you like this. You knew what you were getting into and you’d happily let yourself believe that on some level Dean felt something more than platonic love for you.

But it didn’t matter how many times you gave yourself to him.

He’d never reciprocate.

“Weren’t you talking about heading east to see that friend of yours?” Dean asked suddenly, giving you another brief glance and you just about managed to find your voice. God, how could you be so pathetic? You were a grown woman, an adult, and yet you were behaving like a meek little mouse around him.

“Yeah,” you murmured, looking out of the window, trying not to let the tears fall. “That sounds like a good idea.”

He wouldn’t ask if you were coming back. He’d just assume you would because you needed him as much as he needed you. Needed, not loved. You were just a crutch, like Sam said.

It was time to break clean. You deserved better.

*****

You’d known that getting past Dean would be easy. He was preparing Baby for their hunt at the front of the bunker and the garage was empty of any life. Getting past Sam however, was another question.

He caught you as you were packing up the trunk of your aged sedan, fresh tear tracks on your cheeks from where you’d spent an hour sobbing in the room you usually claimed for your own. You slammed the trunk, jumping a little when you saw him standing by the driver side door, concern on his handsome face.

“You’re leaving him.”

Speaking seemed like the quickest way to burst into tears again so you nodded, mouth a tight line that you barely held. Sam’s shoulders slumped and he shook his head.

“You’re leaving us.”

You couldn’t talk. Fresh pain burst in your chest and you choked on the sob that tried to escape. Tears dripped down your cheeks as Sam kept staring at you.

“Will you call me? When you get wherever you’re going?”

Swallowing, you took a deep steadying breath - your voice still came out squeaky. “As long as you don’t tell him.”

Sam’s expression was soft and understanding and he stepped forward, pulling you into a hug. The dam holding back your emotions rocked and when he spoke, it broke entirely. “He’s my brother and I love him but… you deserve better.”

The tears came thick and fast and Sam simply held you, kissing the top of your head when the sobs finally subsided and you stepped out of his embrace.

“Goodbye, Sam. Take care of both of you,” you whispered. He opened the car door for you and you climbed in quickly, trying not to lose your resolve. Sam didn’t say another word, watching as you reversed the car out of the garage and out of sight.

When he couldn’t hear your engine echoing in the tunnel anymore, Sam turned, heading back up to the main level of the bunker.

Dean was standing in the library, looking at the space where your laptop had been, where it had been for the last six months.

“She’s gone?” he asked, his voice flat and emotionless.

Sam nodded, swallowing thickly as his own eyes watered. He never wanted to see you leave but whatever was happening with Dean was not what you deserved. “You didn’t say goodbye.”

Dean’s eyes slid to him and Sam could see the emotion in his eyes that he dared not let seep into his voice. “Yeah,” he murmured, “I did.”

*****

_Nine Months Later_

You’d never known tiredness like it. Everything hurt, despite the lovely painkillers, but you couldn’t care less. Rolling onto your side uncomfortably, you stared at the little pink squirming bundle in the crib next to you.

She was so quiet. Wiggling her arms and legs already like she was trying to figure out how they worked, little lips parting as she looked around at the world she’d come into.

Sitting up, you grunting, holding your still-swollen stomach. Giving birth sucked but it had been worth it the second you laid your eyes on her. Seven pounds of perfectly formed human, ten perfect fingers, ten perfect toes and a wisp of blonde hair on the very top of her head.

Her eyes were already green.

You’d put his name on the birth certificate. Mollie Winchester would know who her father was and who he’d been to you. But it was safer to stay away. Safer not to hunt. She was all that mattered now.

Leaning over the crib, you smiled, feeling your eyes water with the overwhelming love you felt for the tiny person you’d given life to. You’d chosen one of the safest places in America to hide yourself. Dean didn’t know about her and while you knew it was safer that way, you couldn’t help feeling guilty.

Maybe you should keep a journal. So if he did ever find you, ever discover his daughter, he could at least read it and know… know you did what you thought was right.

“I’m gonna keep you safe, Mollie,” you whispered, reaching in and letting the baby grab your index finger with her warm chubby hand. Mollie gurgled and wiggling, a bubble lingering on her puffy little baby lips. You smiled unable to stop the happy tears falling. “I love you so much.”

*****

“I mean, it was a great burger, don’t get me wrong,” Dean grumbled, thumbing through John’s journal, “but I wouldn’t exactly label it the best in America. If you’re not gonna put bacon on it, it doesn’t deserve -”

Sam sat up, staring through the front window of the Impala. “Dean?”

Dean followed his brother’s line of sight - across from where the Impala was parked, something was materializing, accompanied by a whirring mechanical noise. In tandem, the brothers climbed from the car, moving towards the object as it became clearer and more distinguished in the darkness.

“Is that -” Sam’s question trailed off as the large blue box finally solidified.

“That’s Doctor Who, Sam,” Dean stated dumbly, coming to a stop a few meters away. “That’s actually Doctor Who.”

Sam glanced back at the car. “Did I fall asleep?”

“No,” Dean mumbled, “I’m pretty sure we’re both awake and both seeing this.”

The two men stared as the road fell into silence again, the Impala’s headlights casting an eerie glow over the trees, throwing shadows that stretched into the darkness. Neither of them moved, uncertain that what they were seeing was real.

With a click, the door opened and a slim female figure stepped out into the light, smiling widely. Sam and Dean had the exact same frown on their face as she came closer, followed by a man in a brown pinstripe suit and sneakers. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he stepped out, looking around like a kid at the zoo, his smile matching the girl’s.

“Are we in the Twilight Zone?” Dean blinked and shook his head. “Because I’m fairly certain that’s the English dude outta Doctor Who.”

“Hi,” the girl greeted, stopping a few feet away. She was tall, maybe five eight or nine, long dirty blonde hair strewn around her shoulders, the ends catching on the collar of her jacket. It was clear she wasn’t long into her twenties, maybe even younger.

The man in the suit stepped forward, standing beside the girl and Dean bristled at the casual way he leaned into her, bewildering himself with the overprotective feeling toward a girl he didn’t know. “Okay, we’re gonna need answers,” he stuttered out, lifting one hand to point at the two of them, “because you… you’re not real.”

“Oh,” the man said, looking down at himself and rocking on his heels, “well, I feel real enough.”

“No, I mean you’re a television show. A character,” Dean continued, shaking his head in denial and glancing at Sam. They were used to the unusual - spending a day or so as a cartoon was testament to their weird lives.

The suited man laughed and the girl grinned wider. “Can’t let you two have all the fun now.”

Taking another step, the girl held out her hand in greeting toward Dean; he eyed it warily like she might bite him at any moment. “You’re Dean, right?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, “who are you?”

“I’m sorry,” she spluttered, “I’m kinda nervous.” Dean didn’t take her hand and she rung them together, casting nervous glances between the two men. They waited, letting her have the time to introduce herself. She sucked in a breath and drew herself to her full height, fixing her eyes on Dean. “My name is Mollie Winchester and I’m your daughter.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

_“My name is Mollie Winchester and I’m your daughter.”_

Dean stared slack-jawed at the young girl as if she were mad. She smiled awkwardly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Her green eyes fixed on him nervously and she shifted from foot to foot, glancing at her companion.

“She’s not lying,” the man said, “if that helps.”

“Dean -” Sam started but Dean held his hand up, stopping his brother from speaking.

“I -” he paused, swallowing, “I need a minute.” Backing away, Dean turned his back on Mollie and the man in the sneakers. Sam offered them an apologetic smile before chasing after his brother, catching up to him as he reached the Impala and placed his hands on the roof. Dean leaned forward, almost like he was going to puke.

“You okay?” Sam mumbled, slapped a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“No.”

“You don’t believe her,” the younger man stated and Dean barked a laughter in return, making Sam frown. “You do believe her?”

Standing straight, Dean took a breath, closing his eyes so he didn’t look at the girl stood twenty feet away, talking quietly with her friend. “She’s got my eyes,” he murmured, finally opening his eyes to gaze at Sam, “and her nose.”

Sam’s brow furrowed even deeper and he glanced back, studying Mollie from a distance. “Y/N,” he realized, “you think Y/N is her mom?”

Dean sighed and shrugged, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve been fooled by someone telling us they’re something they’re not.”

“But you want to believe it,” Sam said quietly, receiving a silent answer as Dean’s adams apple bobbed with a slow swallow. “We’ve seen time travel before -”

“This is grade A nutjob stuff, Sammy” Dean looked back this time, sucking in a breath as Mollie’s eyes met his. “That’s the Doctor from Doctor Who and that’s my kid.” He leaned back against the car, shoving his hands into his pockets. “That’s my kid.”

Sam inhaled deeply, pursing his lips as he watched Mollie approach them, without her companion by her side. He tapped Dean’s arm, dragging him out of his glassy-eyed stare toward the trees. Mollie folded her hands in front of her, looking simultaneously determined and nervous.

“I know it’s a surprise,” she started, lifting her shoulders slightly, “but I really am telling the truth. You can run every test you like on me. I even have this.” Reaching under the collar of her shirt, she pulled out the amulet Sam had given Dean all those years ago at Christmas. Both brothers stared at it like they’d seen a ghost.

The amulet Sam still kept in his possession was in a locked box underneath his bed at the bunker. It was impossible for this girl to have it. “You…”

“I found it in the bunker,” Mollie explained, turning the small golden charm over in her hands. “I knew what it was from your journals -”

“You found it in the bunker?” Dean asked, his posture becoming defensive. “How did you get in there?”

Mollie’s face paled a little and she stammered, clearly losing her bravado. Trying to put himself in her shoes, Sam placed one hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Maybe out here isn’t the best place for this. There’s a diner a few miles back,” he suggested, “we could get something to eat and -”

“Sorry, hate to interrupt,” the Doctor announced, popping up between them, “couldn’t help overhearing, did you say something about food?”

Dean blinked at the odd man. “You’re… you’re actually him. The guy off the tv.”

The Doctor grinned, nodding. “Of course. What, you two get to hog all the glory?”

“There’s whole dimensions where you’re entirely different people,” Mollie said excitedly, “like the one you went to where you were actors.” She looked over at the Doctor, raising an eyebrow. “Sam suggested a diner down the street, is that okay?”

“Absolutely!” he replied jovially. “Tardis’ll be fine here for awhile.”

“That’s,” Dean’s head bobbed as he glanced back at the police box, “that’s a spaceship and you’re just gonna leave it here?”

“Where else do you suggest I leave it?” the Doctor challenged, still grinning like a madman. “Besides, I cannot wait to have a ride in your beauty. Never thought I’d get to see her in person.” He dodged around Dean, running his hand over the Impala’s hood, cooing at the warm metal. “She is astounding. The most important object in the universe.”

“Sam -” Dean blurted out and Sam smirked.

“How are you impressed by a car when you have a spaceship?”

Mollie hung back as the Doctor walked around the car, her eyes scanning the metal framework. Dean was the first to notice her, frowning at her almost stoic reaction to the vehicle. “You said you knew what that was from the journals,” he gestured to the amulet in her hand, “did you… you didn’t know me?”

She shook her head, her eyes watering; the necklace was tucked back into her pocket and she lifted her head with a sad smile. “I didn’t. My mom told me everything. But… you died before I met you.”

Swallowing thickly, Dean cleared his throat, lowering his head. “And your mom… your mom is Y/N?”

Mollie nodded. “She was.”

“Was?” he echoed and she sighed, giving him all the answer he needed. “How?”

Her bottom lip wobbled ever so slightly; Dean’s insides ran cold. She lifted her head bravely and fixed him with a look that he’d seen too many times on someone else’s face. Pain. Anguish. He’d caused that look on someone’s face before.

“I killed her.”

*****

Four plates of pancakes and a round of coffees later, Dean was processing everything that the young girl claiming to be his daughter had told him. After her declaration that she’d been the one to kill her mother, Dean hadn’t known what to think.

_She was possessed. For years. I don’t know what they did to her but when I finally managed to track her down and exorcize the demon, she was too far gone to help. She was just about strong enough to pull the trigger of the gun I put in her hand._

Of course, it didn’t mean Mollie was responsible for her death. Y/N had at least stopped her daughter from having to do the deed herself. But still, it hurt to think that somewhere, Y/N had died alone and all because Dean had pushed her away.

He’d gone on after she left, pretending she didn’t even exist, not acknowledging Sam’s gentle attempts to get him to open up. Dean had thought it better to just forget it. Forgetting it was easier than actually dealing with it.

“I didn’t really know her,” Mollie said quietly, distracting Dean’s attention from a squashed blueberry on his plate. It was difficult to know where to look, if he was honest. “She was taken when I was nine. It took us over a decade to find her. I don’t know how long she was a demon, I don’t…” She took a breath, glancing at the Doctor, who offered her a smile and tapped her hand comfortingly.

“So why have you come back?” Sam asked, trying to distract from the sadness of the situation.

“Y/N’s death isn’t a fixed point,” the Doctor explained, sitting back in his chair, swiping a last bit of bacon from his plate and taking a bite. “Originally I was in her world entirely by accident but when Mollie asked for my help, I decided it couldn’t hurt.”

“Isn’t there some rule that you can’t change the past to suit what you want?” Dean’s question was met with a dismayed look from Mollie and Sam elbowed him and scowled. “I mean… you know what I mean. If you could do it, everyone would.”

The Doctor laughed, shaking his head. “Not quite,” he informed the significantly younger man, “and besides, it just happens the fate of your entire universe rests on you dying at the right time and in the right place. I know for a fact, you were in the wrong place at the wrong time in Mollie’s timeline. Which means -”

“Someone tampered with it,” Mollie jumped in. “That’s what we think happened. Someone purposely drove you and Mom apart.”

Dean’s face paled and he sat back in his seat. “No,” he murmured, “it was just me. I… I pushed her away because…” Sam raised an eyebrow but as he expected, Dean never continued; the elder Winchester cleared his throat and straightened his back. “It doesn’t matter. I just know no one else was involved with it…”

Mollie turned her gaze to the Doctor, who shrugged. “Well, either way, it went wrong. And we have to put it back or Mollie won’t have a world to return to.”

“I don’t get it,” Sam said abruptly, “how does Dean and Y/N being together make any difference to the world? They’re just two people.”

Leaning forward, the Doctor rested on his elbows, looking at Sam with a twitch of a smirk on his lips. “Love, Sam. It’s what makes the world go round.” Dean’s cheeks went bright pink. “And it just so happens, Mollie was not supposed to be the last Winchester. Your entire bloodline will eventually be the last defence against the end of the world. I should know, I’ve seen it.”

“Our bloodline?” Dean repeated, his eyes drifting back to Mollie, who smiled shyly.

“Your descendants. Both of you,” the Doctor grinned, spreading his arms with enthusiasm. “You’re the stuff of legend a thousand years into the future.”

The statement was met with silence - the brothers looked at each other, communicating silently that they both thought it was nuts but until they found proof to the contrary -

“Okay, fine. So we find Y/N,” Dean sucked in a breath, “and she kicks my ass to the curb for what I did.”

“What  _did_  you do?” Mollie asked and Dean wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“He doesn’t remember,” Sam muttered, shooting his brother a death glare. “Y/N wouldn’t talk about it and everything seemed fine until…”

“She left a week later,” Dean grunted, “no sign of her since.” His eyebrows met in the middle as he put the times together. “So wait… you’re telling me that last time…” He trailed off, jaw going slack and he looked at his younger sibling in accusation. “Did you know?”

“Know what?” Sam exclaimed defensively.

“That she was pregnant when she left?”

“No!”

Dean seethed, slamming his back into the seat. “You were talking to her.”

“She stopped calling me six months ago, Dean! She never said a word.”

“She didn’t know!” Mollie interrupted, reaching across the table toward Dean. “She only found out a few weeks later.”

Dean opened his mouth, ready to argue that she would have called him but then he remembered how cold he’d been to her. How distraught she’d seemed after that night he couldn’t remember. She wouldn’t talk to him about it, or Sam. To this day, Dean had no idea what he’d done but it must have been bad.

Really bad, if it caused her to hide his daughter from him.

“I don’t know where she is,” Mollie said quietly. “She kept a journal for me until she… she was taken. But the first year of my life… I don’t know where we were.”

Sam sighed, cupping his hands together on the table as the waitress approached with the check. “Last I spoke to her, she was in New York. She didn’t want to tell me but… after a while, she realized it didn’t matter. About a month later, she changed her phone number and every other contact I had for her was dead.”

“You were checking in with her?” Dean asked, his voice more sad than accusing; Sam nodded, shrugging lightly. “It’s okay,” Dean muttered before his brother could justify himself, “I get it.” Silence fell over the table until the Doctor shifted awkwardly and cleared his throat.

“Well, may I suggest we get on? The Tardis can probably help us narrow down Y/N’s location.”

“The spaceship,” Dean stated dryly and the Doctor nodded, grinning. “Because you’re Doctor Who.”

“No, the show is called Doctor Who. Clever play on words, right?” the Timelord’s grin grew and he slouched back in the chair. “It’s a funny old thing, reality. In one world, you could be a stunningly handsome Scottish actor with many awards under your belt or -” He tapped his chest with two fingers. “You can be this stunning specimen.”

Dean’s eyebrow lifted in surprise and Mollie giggled, covering her mouth. “Sorry, he’s…” She glanced at the Doctor. “He’s a little odd. But he’s not wrong. In his reality, you’re both actors. You’ve, erm, you’ve been there.”

“We’re taking a lot on faith here,” Dean growled out, “and it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve faced down a fake version of a television character. Hell, we’ve fought Paris Hilton.” He narrowed his eyes. “Proof.”

“Spaceship,” the Doctor countered, leaning in, gesturing out of the window. Outside, in the parking lot, the Tardis was appearing. The smug grin wasn’t budging off of the Timelord’s face. “And why can’t I be a television show? You can’t hog all the fun.”

“This isn’t fun,” Dean snarled back, “our lives aren’t for entertainment.”

The other man shrugged, still grinning. “Maybe not to you. But have you considered that your lives, your struggles, the epic tale of Sam and Dean Winchester might just bring comfort to someone?” Both Winchesters were struck silent and Mollie watched them both squirm. “You inspire people, boys,” the Doctor finished.

Dean’s cheeks went red and Sam shuffled, scratching at the back of his head uncomfortably. “I don’t know about that,” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact with anyone. “I mean, we just… do the job.”

“Ah, always the modest one, eh, Sam?” The Doctor got to his feet and Mollie slid out from the booth, the brother following close behind. “Come on,” he called, “we’ve got work to do.” Leaning into Mollie, he lowered his voice. “I always wanted to say that.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

“Arkansas,” Dean muttered, looking at the small town on the map the Doctor had produced from somewhere in the ridiculous spaceship. No matter how hard he tried, wrapping his mind around it was too bizarre so Dean did what he tended to do in these situations.

He rolled with it.

“I can have you there in a blink.” Dean’s head jerked up at the Doctor’s words and his eyes went wide. “It really won’t -”

“No !”  

All eyes landed on Dean at his outburst and he scratched nervously at the back of his head. Sam was quick to latch onto what caused it. “I think Dean would rather drive.”

The Doctor frowned. “It’ll take seven hours to drive. And as much as I like your very shiny car, I don’t think I’ll like it so much when my bottom has gone numb.” He glanced at Mollie.

“We’re driving,” she announced, her eyes lighting up at the thought of a roadtrip with her father and uncle. Her mom’s journals had described many of the times she’d been with them on the road and now, Mollie would get to experience it.

“Fair enough,” the Timelord sighed before perking up. “I’ll just meet you there.”

*****

“Admit it,” Dean muttered, glancing at Sam in the front seat, ten miles down the road from the diner toward Arkansas, “you wanted to ride in the spaceship.” Sam scoffed a laugh, rolling his eyes but he didn’t answer and Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “Such a geek.”

Looking in the back mirror, Sam watched Mollie’s face as she stared out of the window. “What’s the world like,” he asked, “twenty years from now?”

She met his eyes in the reflection. “I don’t think I should say anything,” she whispered.

“In case you break the space time continuum?” Dean joked and Mollie shook her head.

“No. Because talking about it makes me remember I have to go back there.” The fear in her eyes was genuine and all trace of humor disappeared out of her voice.

“Won’t it change for you?” Sam asked, frowning.

Mollie shrugged, looking out of the window again. “I don’t know. Not like there’s anything to go back to.”

“So it’s all over?” Sam’s follow-up question was met with a sigh and he glanced at Dean, concern on his face. “You can trust us, Mollie. We’re family, even if we’ve not met yet.” A soft smile pulled at the corners of his mouth and Mollie managed a weak nod.

“After my mom was taken, I went to live with her great-aunt. You and Sam were already…” She paused and swallowed before continuing. “Anyway, my great-aunt was a psychic. When I was fifteen, she told me a man in a suit would fly me through the stars.”

Dean pulled a face. “She saw the Doctor?”

“I guess so,” Mollie replied, “but I never got the chance to find out. She died the next day. Heart attack.”

“What happened to you?”

Looking down at her hands, Mollie remained quiet for a second before answering. “I went into the system. What system there was left. By then… things were already bad. Monsters were common knowledge, everywhere was dangerous. I ended up on the streets before I met some hunters who took me in and trained me in what I hadn’t learned from my mom’s books.”

She met her father’s eyes in the mirror, studying his expression for a moment.

“She never kept anything from me.”

Dean swallowed and directed his gaze back to the road. Sam shifted uncomfortably, changing the subject. “Must be weird that you’re gonna meet yourself as a baby, huh?”

The comment brought a smile to the girl’s face and the tension in the car eased. “Yeah. It’ll be weirder to see my mom. I don’t,” she sighed again, “I don’t remember a whole bunch about her. I was only a little kid when the house was raided.”

“I’m sorry.” Dean’s quiet apology made Mollie lean forward and place a hand on his shoulder. “I know what it’s like… to remember someone but not know them.” He met Sam’s gaze and his brother offered him a comforting smile.

“You didn’t know,” Mollie insisted, patting Dean’s shoulder before sitting back. “Hey, do you guys mind if I sleep for a bit?”

*****

Collapsing onto the couch with a cup of coffee was all you wanted. Naturally, that wasn’t about to happen. At least, for a change, the interruption was from outside and not from the nursery where your three-month-old daughter napped peacefully.

The doorbell rang the second that your ass hit the cushions and you groaned, dragging yourself to the front door quickly before Mollie could be disturbed.

Your heart just about stopped beating when you saw who was standing on the front stoop. His name left your lips in a shocked whisper and that was the moment that the baby decided to wake up.

Dean’s eyes shot past you to the visible staircase and you swallowed, unconsciously blocking the doorway with your whole body. Now the shock was beginning to settle, you could see Sam and a strangely familiar woman behind the eldest Winchester.

“What are you doing here?”

Mollie ceased crying and you frowned, looking back over your shoulder. Upstairs, you could hear another voice, talking to your daughter and panic set in.

Abandoning the door, you rushed toward the stairs, not caring if they followed you - everything was focused on a possible threat to your child. Bursting into Mollie’s nursery, you were confronted with the sight of a gigantic blue box that you could have sworn was off of the television and a man in a pinstripe suit with  _ sneakers _ of all things, cradling your gurgling baby girl.

“Who the hell are you?”

The man looked up - you recognized his face but that in itself didn’t settle your confusion.

Dean and Sam bundled into the doorway behind you, followed by the familiar girl you’d never seen before. The man in the suit chuckled, his eyes meeting those of the girl. “I think baby you likes me,” he commented, clearly amused by something you couldn’t quite grasp.

“What’s going on?” you demanded, stepping closer. The man picked up on your distress but didn’t hand over your child, which only increased the levels of aggression you were feeling. “Give me my daughter.”

“Y/N, it’s okay,” the man said firmly, “I just think it’s best I hold onto her for now.”

The girl who couldn’t have been more than halfway through her twenties moved closer to him, reaching out to touch Mollie’s hand, smiling with tears in her eyes. “I guess I was a cute kid,” she murmured and you gaped, shaking your head.

Glancing at Sam and Dean, both of whom were staring at the baby like they’d witnessed a miracle, you decided they were going to give you answers whether they liked it or not.

“You’ve got thirty seconds before I get my gun,” you warned, anger and confusion making your fingers shake.

“It’s okay,” the girl said, turning her attention away from Mollie and reaching out to you. You froze as she took your hand, her smile disconcertingly reminding you of your own face in the mirror. “Mom, it’s me.” She glanced back at your daughter before returning her startling green gaze to you and your heart started to thump wildly.

Yeah, it was better someone else had hold of the baby.

The girl smiled, nodding as you started to shake from head to toe. “It’s Mollie.”

Everything went black.

*****

Something foul invaded your nose and you spluttered, surging upright with a deep breath and wide eyes. You were in the front room of your modest little house, laying on the couch you’d been so desperate to relax on before you’d opened the door to your past.

Or… the future, you supposed.

Dean was sat next to you, concern filling his face. It had been barely a year since you’d seen him and he looked… exhausted. 

He was holding Mollie.

She was so tiny in his big arms and so still, staring up at him like he was the first thing she’d ever seen. You couldn’t find anything to say and Dean looked down at his daughter, smiling in a way you’d never seen before.

“She’s beautiful,” he murmured.

Nodding slowly, you realized the front room was empty aside from you, Dean and baby Mollie. “Where did…” You let the question hang, unsure how to even finish it. How did you address your daughter, fully grown when she was still a baby?

“They’re looking into something,” Dean said, looking back at you. His eyes swept over you, assessing you for any damage and when he was satisfied, he shifted, offering Mollie to you. “She wants her mama.”

The urge to hold your daughter and make sure she was okay overrode anything else. Dean couldn’t hide his disappointment as you took the baby into your arms and checked her over.

“She was safe with me,” he muttered lowly and you stopped, looking back up at him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, “I know she was safe, I just -”

“You didn’t tell me.”

His accusation stopped you dead and your shoulders dropped. Mollie began to fuss in your arms, her little cheeks turning red as she squirmed. “Do you really blame me?” you replied coolly, groaning when you realized that the reason for Mollie’s fussing was her empty stomach. “She’s hungry,” you hinted.

It took a second but his eyes went wide. “Oh, yeah, sure, I mean,” he stuttered over his words, which was kind of adorable, resparking that warmth in your chest that you’d pushed down since you’d turned your back on the bunker. “Do you want me to leave?” he asked hurriedly, moving to stand up.

“No, I just wasn’t sure if you’d want to stay,” you shifted Mollie into one arm, using your free hand to unbutton your blouse, “some guys are weird about it.”

Dean scoffed but it was clear he was a little uncomfortable. You shrugged, wincing as you maneuvered Mollie into position and she happily latched on, happy little noises letting you know she was getting what she’d wanted.

After a few seconds, you dared to look at Dean. He was sat completely still, watching Mollie feed with a rapt expression on his face.

“I know,” you chuckled, “they’re huge right?”

Dean blinked, shaking himself out of his stupor and frowning. “No, I wasn’t - you just look so beautiful like that.”

You looked down at yourself, raising an eyebrow. There was still spit up on your shoulder where Mollie had rejected her morning feeding.  One button was missing and you’d ripped the seam at some point. And the faded white maternity bra was obviously the fashion statement of the century.

“I’m a mess,” you pointed out, “I can’t imagine to what my hair looks like.”

With a smile, Dean shook his head. “And? All that’s just icing on the cake.” He paused, looking worried. “Not that you’re a cake. I mean, I wouldn’t eat you -” You couldn’t help the snort of laughter that momentarily dislodged Mollie as Dean stumbled over his words. Guiding her back before she could make another fuss, you bit your own lip when one of her burgeoning teeth nicked your areola.

“Dean,” you gasped, trying to catch your breath through laughter, “it’s okay. I get it. I’m just teasing.”

His entire body went lax and he fell back against the cushions, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. It’s been a hell of a day.”

You hummed, watching him as he massaged his temples. Footsteps came down the stairs and Sam ducked into view, avoiding the low ceiling at the bottom of the staircase. Dean sat upright, looking panicked.

“Sam!”

Sam frowned, walking over and dropping himself into the armchair opposite the couch. “You’re awake,” he said, nodding in your direction.

“Sam,” Dean repeated, smiling nervously, “don’t you have something to check on?” The younger Winchester stared at him in confusion. “You were doing that thing -”

“Oh, Dean, grow up,” Sam grunted, realizing that his brother was worried about you breastfeeding in front of him. “It’s perfectly natural.”

You smiled, shaking your head just as Mollie let go, yawning widely, her little fists balling as she held them against her cheeks. “She’s about done anyway,” you muttered, covering up and looking around for a cloth. “Sam, could you grab me one of the blue cloths hanging in the kitchen?”

“Sure.”

When he disappeared out of sight, you moved Mollie onto your shoulder, rubbing her back to wind her. Dean watched, almost like he’d never seen a baby before. Sam returned with the cloth and you thanked him, concentrating on the baby as she dribbled dozily on your shoulder.

After two satisfying burps, you returned her to the crook of your arm, leaning back and getting comfortable. Mollie yawned again, almost mimicking your movements to find her own preferred position, before dropping off to sleep in a way that made all three adults in the room envious.

“Okay,” you breathed, leveling your gaze on Dean. “Talk.”


	4. Chapter 4

Dean watched from the doorway of the nursery, now Tardis-free, as you put Mollie to bed. You shushed her when she grizzled, stroking one finger down her nose to ease her off. When you were satisfied she wouldn’t stir, you stood straight, walking toward Dean and pulling the door until it was only open an inch or two.

“Always knew you’d be a good mom,” he commented quietly and you glanced at him, your expression twisted into a grimace. Turning your back, you walked toward your bedroom, seeking out a little privacy for what you knew was going to be a stressful conversation.

Dean lingered at the threshold, obviously unsure if he was welcome inside your personal space. You sighed, gesturing for him to come in. “Leave the door open a little. The baby monitor is busted.”

He nodded, doing as you asked before hovering nervously in the middle of the room. Sparing him a glance, you sat on the end of your bed, your stomach churning nervously. In all the moments of weakness where you imagined this moment, nothing had prepared you for actually seeing Dean again.

“Are you okay?” he asked hesitantly, like he already knew the answer was a big fat whopping no.

You grinned apprehensively, hunching your shoulders and placing your hands on your thighs. “Well, you’re here,” you replied, sucking in a breath and releasing it slowly. “And I wasn’t exactly… prepared.”

Dean pursed his lips, shoving his hands into his pockets. “When you left -”

“You know,” you interrupted abruptly, feeling a sudden pounding in your temples, “I’m actually… I don’t wanna do this right now. I don’t… I know I shouldn’t have lied to you but after everything -” His entire face was filled with dismay but you couldn’t let it stop you. “We were stuck in an unhealthy groove and it wasn’t… healthy or good and we…”

Your breathing came faster and faster; Dean stepped forward only a second before you burst into tears and you didn’t stop him wrapping his arms around you, tucking you into the space against his chest, your head under his chin. It was an embrace you hated and craved in equal measures and for the same reason.

It felt too much like belonging.

For a few moments, you stayed there, breathing in his scent and keeping your eyes closed. The indulgence of pretending that he’d never used you, that he’d always loved you in some capacity, was hard to resist but you had to be strong.

There wasn’t just you to consider in all of this.

Pulling away, you wiped your eyes on the cuffs of your shirt, grimacing when you realized just how dirty you were. “I could really use a shower,” you muttered, avoiding Dean’s eyes.

“Y/N -”

“Dean, I can’t,” you closed your eyes, “you…”

“I don’t know what I did,” he admitted, sighing heavily. “That whole night, whatever happened, I don’t remember it.” The chances of avoiding the conversation was growing slimmer with each moment. “I pushed you away,” Dean continued, “and I hurt you. I should have treated you better. I should… I should have told you -”

“Please, don’t,” you begged, turning away from him, covering your face with your hands for a second before lifting your gaze to the ceiling. “You can’t just show up here with some alien and my supposedly grown-up daughter telling me we’re supposed to be together and think that some grand declaration that you’ve always loved me will make me fall back into your arms!”

The tirade brought strength with it and you stood straight, your expression set with grim determination. You turned back to face Dean, folding your arms across your chest as if it might give you a better chance of not weakening.

“I loved you.” Your declaration made the hope in his eyes disappear. “But I can’t think about you anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

Shrugging, you rubbed your hands against your forearms. “I’m saying that I don’t trust you. Not with me. Not with my… my heart.” You cringed at the sappy phrasing but Dean seemed to understand, nodding slowly. His eyes dropped to the floor and you fought the intense urge to touch him, pinning your hands under your armpits. “I really do need to shower,” you muttered.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll -” Dean jerked his thumb towards the hall. “Do you mind if I sit in with Mollie for a little? Just to keep watch…” It was a lie and you both knew it but you weren’t going to deny him the opportunity to spend time with his daughter, even if she was asleep.

“I’d feel better if you did,” you confessed, offering him a smile as a crumb of thanks. “Thanks, Dean.”

He paused at the door, smiling back. “You’re welcome.”

*****

The shower was exactly what the doctor ordered. Time under the warm spray helped not only to wash away the dirt and babysick of the day, but let you process everything you’d learned in the space of a few short hours.

You hadn’t had a chance to speak to Mollie alone. Just wrapping your mind around the fact that your daughter was grown, was there in your house… you hadn’t quite managed it yet. And then there was Dean and all that baggage.

To be honest, the alien with two hearts was the easiest thing to get straight in your head. Doctor Who here was a television show, kinda like the one Dean and Sam had apparently been in in another universe. You hadn’t been there but they’d told you all about it. It made sense in a wonky sort of way that the reverse was possible.

You’d seen plenty weirder.

Once you were done, you shuffled into your room with the towel wrapped tightly around you, using a smaller one to dry your hair. Locating your favorite Eeyore pajamas, you slipped into them, tossing the used towels into the laundry basket.

Mollie gurgled from her nursery and you headed over, finding Dean already soothing her. He’d removed his overshirt and was sat in his plain white tee, rocking back and forth with the baby in his arms. As you entered, he looked up, smiling.

“It’s okay, I got her. You finish up.”

“I’ve just gotta dry my hair,” you said quietly, smiling as Mollie seized one of Dean’s huge fingers and promptly started to chew on it. “Watch her teeth.”

“Teeth?” he frowned, glancing back down just as one little edge of a baby tooth caught him. “Oh, wow, that’s a bite, baby girl.”

The way he spoke to her, voice filled with adoration, made your heart warm and you couldn’t help your smile growing. “I’ll only be a few minutes.” Dean nodded, not looking back up; you turned and left them alone, returning to your room.

Closing the door to minimize the sound of the hairdryer, you padded over to your dresser,  grabbing your brush. You flicked the hairdryer on and turned to the mirror, dragging the brush through your hair.

The window was open a fraction.

It had been closed earlier.

A gloved hand covered your mouth, cutting off your surprised scream. The hairdryer and brush clattered to the floor.

The room spun and everything went black.

*****

Mollie stood in front of the mirror in your front room, looking over the photos on the mantelpiece. She was surprised how many you had of Sam and Dean; there hadn’t been many left after this house. You’d never told her what happened in any of the books - Mollie only assumed because it was horrible and you didn’t want to remember it.

Not that it mattered. If everything went to plan, you would go back to the bunker with Dean, neither of you would die and Mollie could go back to a world different to the one she knew.

The Doctor assured her she would eventually forget and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that now.

A thud sounded from above, making Mollie look up - Sam and the Doctor did the same, both of them frowning. “What was that?” Sam got to his feet, heading for the stairs.

“Maybe Mom dropped something,” Mollie offered, following him, “I’ll go and see if she’s okay -” The scent of sulfur reached them both at the same time before they’d reached the top, prompting them to move faster. Dean was emerging from the nursery, clutching baby Mollie to his chest and frowning.

“What was that noise?” Sam asked.

“Y/N was blow drying her hair,” Dean murmured, moving to your bedroom door and opening it. The dryer was still running loudly from its position on the floor and baby Mollie started to cry loudly at the sound, not stopping until Sam turned the dryer off. Next to the appliance was yellow powder - he dragged his fingers through it and knew before he smelled it that it was sulfur.

“No,” Mollie whispered, shaking her head and moving back, “not again. How did they -”

The Doctor pulled out a strange device that whirred loudly; he appeared to scan the air, leaving both Winchester brothers staring at him in confusion. “They won’t get far,” the Timelord announced, turning on his heel and darted back downstairs.

“Go!” Dean growled, slapping Sam’s arm. Baby Mollie grizzled and clung to his thin shirt, reminding him that rushing into danger wasn’t a good idea. Adult Mollie was barely out of the door before Dean grabbed her arm. “Look after…” he paused, frowning. “Yourself,” he finished, handing the baby off to her grown counterpart. “Stay in here.”

Mollie gaped, holding the baby awkwardly - she started to scream, displeased with the movement. “Oh god, I don’t do babies,” the young woman squeaked, trying to hand her back. “Dad!”

“Don’t, Mollie,” Dean threatened, holding up one finger in her direction. “I need you both safe right now. Get in the nursery and stay put.”

Her jaw set stubbornly and she shifted the baby version of herself into her arms, glaring at him. “Fine.” Dean hesitated, before closing the space between them and grabbing her shoulder, kissing her forehead firmly. He ran one hand over the baby’s head, smiling.

Then he was gone.

Mollie stood on the landing for a moment before returning to the nursery, closing the door. She moved to the rocking chair by the crib and sat down, trying to soothe the upset child in her arms. “Looks like it’s you and me, kiddo,” she murmured, running a finger over baby Mollie’s chubby little cheek. “Just like always.”

*****

“Did you know that individual demons put off a specific signal?” the Doctor babbled as Dean watched, hovering in the doorway of the Tardis. “I’ve got it locked, so now I just have to scan the entire planet -”

“How long is that going to take?” Sam asked, glancing at Dean.

“It’ll be a lot quicker than searching the local omens,” was the quipped response and Dean snorted, folding his arms over his chest, looking back through the open door to the house. “Could you shut the door?”

“What?” Dean’s eyes went wide. “You’re not planning on flyin’ me anywhere are you?”

The Doctor peered at him, raising an eyebrow. “There’s a draught.”

Sheepishly, the eldest Winchester shut the door, avoiding eye contact with his brother as the younger man snickered in amusement. The Tardis whirred loudly for a moment before dulling into the usual background buzz and Dean looked around nervously. “I don’t like this, Sammy,” he muttered and Sam elbowed him.

“It’s fine. Besides, it’s kinda cool.”

Dean grunted, shaking his head. “This is stupid,” he commented. “Demons don’t normally go far. They’re fairly lazy.”

The Doctor grinned. “They don’t like traveling abroad either,” he joked, twisting a few dials and pressing buttons almost like he had no idea what he was doing. “Ah, here we go!” A loud crunch preceded the control console lighting up and with a triumphant yell, the Doctor raised a hand, giving Dean a particularly alarming look.

“Let’s go get your lady.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

Things weren’t going great for your captor. The indignation of being kidnapped in your pajamas with messy hair and no slippers was making you a handful - he’d already suffered a nasty headbutt to the nose and the heel of your foot crushing his toes.

Demons were resistant to pain, more so than humans, but things still  _hurt_.

You were using that to your full advantage.

By the time he’d materialized the both of you in the dingy bar, populated with more black eyes, the demon was muttered about demoralizing behavior and not asking for the job. You kept struggling, resulting in him pushing you roughly to the floor.

“Davis,” a feminine voice scolded, “please don’t tell me one unextraordinary human gave you trouble?” The amusement at his expense sent chortles rippling through the gathered demons. Climbing to your feet, you looked around, taking stock of your odds.

“Should have let me slit her throat there and then,” Davis growled, stomping off away from you and you turned your eyes to the woman who’d spoken. She was tall, with perfectly coiffed blonde hair, looking just like a twenties pin-up girl in her low-slung red top and tight pants.

You recognized her.

“You’re the slut from the bar,” you ground out, falling into a defensive posture. “I almost didn’t recognize you standing up.”

The woman laughed, her eyes flickering black. “And it was worth the look on your face, sweetheart,” she purred, “when you saw me with your lover’s cock in my mouth.” Her mouth curled up into a vicious smile. “He called your name when he came down my throat, you know.”

You raised your fists. “You made a stupid mistake leaving me untied. Davis was right - you should have killed me.”

“Oh, well now,” the woman murmured, walking around you. You followed her movements, alert for any attack. It didn’t even occur to you how non-threatening you must have looked barefoot with a shirt on that said ‘ _I think I’ll just sleep now’_  with Eeyore snoozing. “I wouldn’t want to damage our Queen’s perfect vessel.”

Blinking, you frowned, shaking your head. “I’m not anyone’s vessel.”

Another shrill laugh made you want to lash out but you remained still, defensive rather than offensive. “Sweetie, I know everything that funny little man in the blue box told you.” Your stomach dropped; how could they know anything? “My name is Veronica,” she informed you.

“I didn’t ask,” you snapped.

“Temper, temper,” Veronica crooned, motioning to two of her demons. “We’ll get you comfortable. Mostly.” The two demons approached and you struck out, trying to defend yourself with little success. “Take her downstairs,” she ordered, smiling cruelly. “I’ll pop by and see you in a while, my dear.”

The basement of the bar was dirtier than the actual bar itself which was impressive. In one corner, a pile of burned out corpses had started to decay, filling the room with an unbearable stench. You gagged and one of the demons almost released you.

“Come on, Gary,” the other demon sneered, “you worried she’s gonna heave on your shoes?”

“Maybe we should shift those meatsuits,” Gary muttered back. “I don’t fancy getting stuck cleaning up when she hurls chunks everywhere.”

You wrinkled your nose up, trying to bury your face in your shoulder. The demons tossed you into a cage, obviously meant for secure storage, locking the door behind you. “You can do that then,” the other demon announced, brushing his hands off. “Since it was your idea.”

They continued bickering as they left and you slumped to the floor, hugging your knees and feeling the chill of the concrete on your bare feet.

Who the hell was the Queen? Why were you her vessel?

What was going on?

*****

An hour or so later, you were still in the cage, waiting. Gary had returned, removing the bodies, although the stench still lingered. He’d refused to acknowledge you, no matter how much you tried to bribe him with not getting killed.

Footsteps clattered down the steps into the basement and Veronica stepped into view. She smiled at you, approaching the cage and you got to your feet, wincing at the numbness in them.

“Why are you holding me here?”

“Insurance,” Veronica replied. “So things go our way.” She took a few steps, folding her arms over her chest and keeping her eyes on yours. “Bet you’ve got all sorts of questions.”

“Are you gonna answer them?”

She smiled again. “You know your boys are on their way here? Galloping to the rescue. Leaving your little girl and the brat from the future alone in that house.” You stared, trying not to give away the horror that filled your belly. “And it’s such a shame when you lose someone so young in such a tragic accident.”

“No -” you swallowed, rushing the cage wire and clutching it. “Please, I’ll do anything.”

“Oh, honey, it’s nothing personal,” she cooed. “Orders are orders after all and the Winchesters?” She sucked in air through her teeth. “They gotta go.”

“You’re leading them into a trap,” you realized. “You’re waiting for them.”

“A perfect ambush.” Veronica tittered, clasping her shoulder with one hand. “I knew they’d follow Davis. He’s leading them on a nice little runaround.” Anger had you rattling the cage which only made the demon laugh harder. “Keep fighting, sugar,” she tossed her hair over her shoulder, “Won’t mean a thing when the Queen claims you for herself.”

“Who the fuck is the Queen?” you seethed, fingers going numb where you gripped the metal.

Veronica’s smile grew unnaturally large for her face. “Our Queen?” she chuckled. “We are the loyal. We serve only one, the true ruler of Hell.” She leaned in, her sneer increasing your thirst for violence. “Abaddon.”

*****

Dean didn’t care how big the Tardis was on the inside, he hated it. He’d never been a fan of anything that wasn’t him behind the wheel, preferably of the Impala, and this thing was an unknown entity. It disappeared, apparently at will, and when the three of them stepped out into darkness and silence, Dean thought that maybe it wasn’t so great at finding people either.

“This doesn’t look right,” Sam murmured, sniffing the air. “I can smell sulfur.”

The Doctor had his screwdriver out, the little tool whirring away. The frown on his face didn’t give Dean any confidence. “I think,” he murmured, lifting his gaze to the darkness as figures began to emerge, at least seven, all black-eyed and grinning, “we may have been tricked.”

Sam pulled his gun only a split second before Dean did, both of them taking aim and firing at individual targets. The Doctor backed off, grimacing as a demon came for him and fending him off.

“Just kill him!” Dean screamed, taking down two demons in quick succession. His attention was distracted as one grabbed him from behind, wrestling his gun from his hand, another punching him while he was pinned.

Throwing his head back, Dean dislodged the first demon, shoving him back into Sam who swiftly buried the demon blade in the meatsuit’s throat. The demon died in a flash of golden light but the brothers were already moving on, working in tandem to dispatch each enemy, neither of them stopping until the threat was minimized.

“A trap,” Sam panted, leaning over to brace himself on his knees and catch his breath. “She’s not here.”

Dean glanced over at the Doctor, frowning when he saw the odd man had the demon he’d been fighting captive on the floor. Grinning over at them, the Timelord got to his feet. “Gentleman,” he started, gesturing to his prisoner, “this is Davis. And he has a lot to tell us.”

*****

“Abaddon’s dead,” you said, shaking your head. “Dean killed her.”

“Here,” Veronica conceded, “yes. But with the right spell, the right vessel, the right time…” She shrugged lazily. “We can resurrect our beloved Queen. There’s no one to stop us.” Leaning against the wall opposite your makeshift cage, the demon smiled at you. “You still haven’t figured it out, have you?”

Sighing heavily, you turned away from her, hugging yourself. “Enlighten me.”

“Everything was against you, darlin’. It was genuinely nothin’ personal when I drugged Dean. He barely had any idea what was going on. But we needed you to see it.”

“What the hell does my love life have to do with any of you?”

Veronica giggled. “It’s not your love life, sweetie. It’s the bloodline. You’re the key to Dean Winchester’s entire happiness. Your descendants go on to become one of the most powerful hunting dynasties in the history of man.”

“How do you know all this?” you demanded, turning back to face her, anger clouding your face.

“Oh, you know us demons,” Veronica muttered, smirking. “Smoke gets in through every tiny crack…” You stared at her, trying to figure out her riddles and she laughed again. If anything was setting her painful death in stone, it was her goddamn awful laugh. “Your daughter didn’t come back alone.”

*****

Dean grabbed the demon by the throat, forcing him against the wall even as the Doctor protested, hanging back in the face of the hunter’s violence. “What the hell do you mean?”

“She was tailed!” Davis shrieked, knowing that nothing he did would save him. “One of the demons from her time, came back in the blue box!”

The Doctor gaped as both Winchesters turned their eyes on him. “Oh, yes, that… does happen on occasion. In all fairness, sometimes you miss the odd cloud of black smoke.”

Slamming the demon against the wall again, Dean bared his teeth. “Where is Y/N?”

Davis shook, clearly not the bravest in the face of two wrathful Winchesters that had cut through his unit with ease they hadn’t expected. “V will kill me,” he sobbed.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you,” Dean snarled, closing his hands around the demon’s throat, “so start talking or I’ll make it last longer!”

*****

“You know,” Veronica drawled, still watching you closely, “he came to see me again after that night. Poor thing, he didn’t remember a single little detail.” She smiled smugly. “Didn’t remember anything after coming to the bar. Not even all the drunken tears he spilled telling me how much he loved you.”

“Shut up,” you seethed, sitting back on the floor. Sulking probably wasn’t the most conductive use of your time but getting out of a locked cage was a little beyond your skill set when you were in your pajamas.

She knew she was getting to you and the sly smile on her face made you want to tear her face off. What she’d done to Dean amounted to rape - you felt sick to your stomach that you hadn’t given him a chance to explain. Despite his behavior, you felt guilty for not realizing he was suffering too.

Veronica looked toward the stairs as another demon entered. This one was female too, a redhead, and came to a stop beside the blonde, her fathomless black gaze on you. The black flicked away, revealing dark hazel eyes that focused on you coolly.

“She doesn’t look like much,” she sneered and you glared at her, holding your chin up in defiance. “The Winchesters killed the ones you sent. No doubt they know where we are.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Veronica muttered, waving the other woman’s concerns off. “By the time they get here, she’ll be dead and Abaddon will be risen again. They’ll be easy to deal with.”

The redhead’s eyes narrowed - her gaze didn’t leave you and you held it in a stubborn game of loser-blinks-first. “Don’t underestimate them, Veronica,” she murmured, “the Winchesters have power. Belief in each other.” Turning her head, she glared at her blonde counterpart. “I watched them for a long time. It was only my intel from the future that got you here.”

“I’m sure our Queen will compensate you gratefully,” Veronica replied.

“She’s more likely to kill you,” you snapped and both women looked at you. “Abaddon doesn’t care about anyone or anything except power. She doesn’t care how loyal you are.”

The redhead smiled, moving forward to stand at the cage, looking down at you. “So brave,” she whispered, “but we’ll see how brave you are when I’m peeling that tattoo off of your skin with my fingers.”

Clicking her fingers, the door to the basement opened and demons filed down the stairs.

You were ready when they opened the cage door, fighting with everything you had against the four big demons they sent in. But you were nothing to them and your struggles barely made them flinch as they dragged you back up to the bar, where a pool table had been outfitted with restraints.

“Let me go!” you screeched, digging your heels into the floor, ignoring the pain to try and escape.

It failed, like every other attempt.

One of the demons pulled hard on your arm as the others released you and you stumbled forward, your temple colliding with the edge of the table. Pain immediate flooded your entire body and you cried out, falling down as everything became muffled and hazy.

The demon picked you up, dumping you unceremoniously on the table. You could feel blood trickling from your eyebrow down to your ear, following the curve of your earlobe and matting in your hair. For some reason, your hands felt numb and weak - the demons were securing you down in the restraints.

“Plea-”

Your pitiful cry fell on deaf ears and you let your eyes shut. The scent of sulfur and blood was thick in the air and your mouth was so dry, you’d drink gatorade if it was offered. A thin strip of fabric covered your eyes, blinding you to everything.

“Won’t be long now,” Veronica purred, her voice close to your ear and her breath coasted over your skin for a second before her presence disappeared. “Sal,” she called and you twisted your head uselessly, trying to figure out what was going on.

Cold fingers brushed over your middle, tugging at your pajama pants and you panicked, knowing that your faded Spongebob girl-boxers were not the most flattering accompaniment to your pajamas. “Please,” you whimpered again, receiving only laughter as cool air assaulted your bare thighs.

“It’ll all be over soon,” the redhead woman’s voice crooned - she must be “Sal”. A second later, cold steel touched the spot on your outer thigh where your anti-possession tattoo lay.

“No -”

The first cut hurt the most.

 


	6. Chapter 6

The second the Tardis was fully materialized, Dean was out of the door, wielding his knife and gun as he charged the first demon he saw. Sam was hot on his tail and neither of them stopped to wait for the Timelord.

Dean threw himself against the bar doors, yelling in frustration when they didn’t budge - a chain was wrapped securely around the handles. Taking a step back, he aimed his gun at the metal and fired off several shots, all of which rebounded uselessly.

“Dean!” Sam snapped, dragging his brother out of his one-track-rage. “Take the back. I’ll check the windows.”

The elder brother nodded, holding his gun up and stepping over a corpse as he moved around the exterior of the building. Another demon jumped out as he rounded the corner; Dean went down under his weight, his gun falling from his grip.

A second later, Sam was there, demon knife slicing through the meatsuit’s spinal cord and the demon flashed golden. Dean shoved him off before he was entirely dead, getting to his feet and retrieving his gun. “Thanks.”

“The Doctor got the door open,” Sam said, jerking his head back. “We need one of those sonic things.”

Ignoring the comment, Dean headed back to the front of the building with Sam behind him, stopping as he saw the bar doors wide open. A female demon with blonde hair was holding the Doctor with one arm, the other pressing a blade to his throat.

Dean’s stomach dropped as he recognized her. It was the waitress from the night he couldn’t remember. “Veronica?”

“Heya, sweetie,” she shot him a wide smile, “how’ve ya been?”

“Dean?” Sam asked, stopping beside him. “You know her?”

“Oh, he knows me  _very_  well,” Veronica answered, her smile not wavering. Dean’s face scrunched up in a scowl and he lifted his gun, aiming it for her head. “Ah ah ah,” she pressed the knife harder against the Doctor’s throat, “I will kill him.”

Dean glanced at Sam, both of them unsure what their next move was. From inside the bar, sounds of chanting grew louder - they couldn’t see much in the dark gloom beyond the doors but it was clear Y/N was in trouble.

“Yeah,” Veronica drawled, “it won’t be long now. Really is shame you have to die.” Her eyes ran over Dean’s body in a way that made his skin crawl. “We could have had a lotta fun, Dean.” The memories were there; Dean could feel them lingering in the back of his head. It was never clear - warmth, wetness, pleasure making his knees shake - but it was enough to know she’d violated him in some way.

Sam saw his brother’s tell the split second before his finger squeezed on the trigger. Twenty years of John Winchester’s rigorous training had the bullet connecting with Veronica’s forehead, right between her eyes and an instant look of shock crossed her face. Her skin lit up with the golden glow of her demise and she crumpled to the floor.

The Doctor remained where he was, gingerly rubbing at his throat with one finger. “Nice shot.”

Dean didn’t say anything, lowering his weapon, death still lingering in his eyes. Reaching out, Sam touched his forearm, jolting his brother back into reality. “You good?” he asked cautiously.

“Yeah,” Dean grunted, reloading his pistol and moving toward the bar.

The air was thick with sulfur and spices, blood clinging to the scent and it took a second for Dean’s eyes to adjust to the candlelit interior. Whatever was burning smelled like roasting flesh; when he saw the source, his blood ran cold.

In the middle of the bar, a pool table had been turned into some kind of makeshift altar, shrouded in black velvet with a circle painted in blood around it. Laying on top, Y/N was prone, her pajamas barely scraps that covered her modesty. Blood sigils were drawn over any bare skin and the wound on her leg where her tattoo had been was oozing, bloodied and burned where it had been poorly cauterized.

Black smoke curled around the edge of the table, touching her delicately, each wave of chanting making it throb.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” another voice crooned, making all three men turn. Sal emerged from the shadows, a cruel smile on her face and a bloodied knife in her hand. “My Queen will be so pleased with me.”

“You don’t belong here,” the Doctor said suddenly, frowning. “Not here, not in this time.”

Sal’s smile widened, ruby red lips stretching back over her pearly white teeth. “No. But thanks for the ride.” Dean lifted his gun, ready to fire but she simply waved a hand, sending it flying from his grip. “I don’t think so,” she drawled, unamused.

“You said… your Queen?” Sam stuttered, shaking his head.

Fixing him with a glare, Sal twirled the knife in her fingers. “My Queen. Abaddon, the First Knight Of Hell, protege to the Father Of Murder and rightful Ruler of Hell.” She tilted her head, shaking it slightly. “I believe you’ve heard of her.”

“She’s dead,” Dean spat, squaring his shoulders.

“Not quite.” Stepping to the side, Sal held up her free hand, immobilizing them before any attack could be attempted. “What, did you think you had the monopoly on resurrections?”

“It’s impossible,” Sam denied, fighting against the demon’s hold. “You can’t -”

“Oh, I can,” Sal interrupted, coming to a stop by the altar, her eyes on Y/N as the smoke slowly started to absorb into the sigils. In turn, the blood faded until it was completely gone. “And I have,” she finished, leaning over to press her lips to Y/N’s. The kiss was brief and when the redhead pulled back, Y/N’s eyes snapped open, filled with black.

The demons kept chanting and Sal stepped back, unbuckling the restraints - Y/N sat up, taking it and allowing the other woman to help her down. It was almost robotic, the way she moved and Dean swallowed, attempting to reach out toward her.

“Y/N -”

Her head jerked up and her black eyes focused on him. “Dean,” she spoke slowly, like she was tasting his name on her tongue, “oh, Dean, I’ve missed you.” It wasn’t sweet or loving, the way Y/N smiled at him and Dean stepped back, shaking his head as it settled that this wasn’t Y/N.

“Abaddon,” he growled.

Sal smiled, taking Abaddon’s hands. “My Queen… I have longed for you so.”

Abaddon turned her head, focusing on the redhead, raising an eyebrow before looking down at her hands. “Saleos,” she murmured, “how are you here?”

“I escaped, my Queen,” Sal whispered. “I fought in your name and gathered all those who were loyal to you. I have destroyed the Winchester bloodline -”

“They don’t look very destroyed to me,” Abaddon snapped, “they look plenty alive.”

Sal shook her head, dropping to her knees, clinging to Abaddon’s hands. “No, please, I made sure - you can kill them. I knew you would want -”

“Get up.”

Hesitation made Sal’s movements slow and Abaddon pulled her hands free, looking almost disgusted. “My Queen -”

“You didn’t save them for me to kill,” she accused, “you were simply too stupid and pathetic to do it yourself.” Placing her hands on Sal’s cheeks, Abaddon smiled, making Y/N’s face twist into an unnatural expression. “But you always were a sycophant, my sweet Sal.”

The sound of Sal’s neck snapping echoed through the bar, only just audible above the chanting that continued in the background. Gold flashed through her body and her control over the brothers and the Doctor died with her; the three of them stumbled forward. Abaddon drew herself to her full height and stepped forward, her bare foot cross the threshold of the circle drawn in blood around the pool table.

The second her toes pressed into it, the demons stopped chanting. “The spell isn’t complete,” the Doctor murmured, pulling out his screwdriver, “get her back onto the altar!”

Sam moved first - Abaddon sent him flying into the mirror behind the bar. The momentary distraction gave Dean enough time to tackle her around the middle, forcing her back onto the pool table. “The demons!” Sam yelled, stumbling to his feet.

“Kill them!” Dean roared, attempting to hold Abaddon down as she clawed at him, snapping her teeth angrily. She was still weak, not up to full power, which gave him the upper hand. “You gotta kill them!”

The Doctor aimed his screwdriver at the demons, clicking it once.

Nothing happened.

Sam rolled his eyes, throwing himself over the bartop toward the gathered demons, knife in hand. The Doctor shook the sonic device, frowning when it still didn’t work.

Abaddon was gaining strength and Dean grunted in pain as she grabbed his wrists, forcing him backwards. Sam was on the first demon, pulling her backward and plunging the blade into her heart. She screamed and the other two stopped chanting as she died in a flash of gold.

“No!” Abaddon screeched, dragging her fingernails down Dean’s face. He cried out in pain, giving her enough of a chance to shove him off. “No, I won’t go back to the Empty!”

Sam killed the second demon and the bar began to shake. Wooden beams fell down and Abaddon threw her arms wide, emitting an inhuman sound. All three of them covered their ears and the final demon backed away from Sam, making it two or three feet before the hunter grabbed his ankle and dragged him to the ground.

One swift thrust and the knife was in his chest, golden light highlighting the inside of the vessel before the demon died.

Abaddon fell deathly silent and the room stopped shaking.

Black smoke gathered at her feet, almost draining from her like liquid from a bucket with holes in it. It came to a stop and Y/N’s eyes closed, her entire body going slack.

Dean caught her as she hit the ground, unconscious but breathing. “Is she okay?” Sam asked, crawling through the debris to his brother’s side.

Y/N groaned, turning her head, tears already leaking from her eyes as she opened them again. “Mollie -”

“She’s fine, they’re at the house -” Dean was cut off by Y/N’s hand on his chest, her fingers clutching the collar of his jacket as she started to pull herself up. “Y/N, stop, you’re -”

She stopped him dead, exhaustion only overruled by determination. “We have to go. They’re in danger.”

*****

Mollie wrinkled her nose in her sleep. She’d been dreaming of fire and smoke, heat smothering her from top to bottom and her mom’s screams in the distance.

Baby Mollie stirred in the crib.

The smell of smoke crept under the nursery door, grey tendrils easily visible against the white paint. Flames licked at the carpet on the landing, the danger growing closer and closer to the sleeping baby and her future counterpart.

One screech from the baby had Mollie bolt upright in the chair, bleary eyes widening in horror when she saw the smoke, smelled it filling the room. The baby was screaming now and Mollie scooped her up, covering her in the blanket, covering her own face with her hand. She backed toward the window as the flame curled under the door.

They were trapped.

 


	7. Chapter 7

You couldn’t even feel the pain of what they’d done to you. It barely registered during the entire journey back to your house, which took only a few minutes thanks to the Tardis. Everything in you was focused on getting home to your daughter and making sure she was safe.

Veronica’s words still echoed in your head.  _…such a shame when you lose someone so young in such a tragic accident…_

The flames were visible when you tumbled out of the Tardis, sprinting toward the house despite the injuries to your leg. You screamed as Dean wrapped his arms around your upper body, stopping you from getting past the firemen trying to control the flames.

“The emergency services are here,” he soothed, tugging you back. “It’s okay, they’re gonna be -”

“Mom?” Mollie’s voice carried across the street and you turned, eyes widening at the sight of your daughter in her future self’s arms. Dean didn’t hold you back as you ran to them, throwing your arms around both Mollies, tears flooding your eyes.

“Oh, god,” you sobbed, touching the baby’s face before the woman’s, smiling in relief. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

“I climbed out of the window,” Mollie murmured. She was filthy dirty, covered in soot from head to toe whereas baby Mollie was spotless. “Wrapped her in a blanket so she didn’t smell the smoke.” Lifting her arms, she passed the baby girl to you, smiling. “I think she’s hungry.”

You took your daughter, smiling as Dean approached, putting his arm around your shoulders and fixing adult-Mollie with a proud grin. “You did good, kiddo.”

Mollie’s smile widened; her eyes went past her father to the Doctor, who was giving her a half-smirk, sticking his thumb up from where he leaned against the Tardis. Her stomach sank as she realized… it was time go home.

“Everything okay?” Dean asked, noticing the far away look on her face and Mollie forced the smile back onto her lips.

“I hope so,” she replied, taking a breath. Leaning forward, she tugged down the front of the blanket, looking into her own face. “See you in a few years,” she whispered, kissing the baby’s forehead before looking up at you. “Be safe, Mom.”

“I will,” you murmured back, relaxing a little more into Dean’s hold as the adrenaline slowly drained from your system. The pain was starting to set in and as Mollie stepped back, your legs shuddered.

“Take care of her,” Mollie instructed her father and Dean nodded, practically holding you up. She watched as he led you away toward one of the ambulances, intending on getting you checked over. Sam approached the young girl, placing one hand on her shoulder. “They’re gonna be okay, right Sam?”

He gave her a lopsided grin when she looked at him. “It probably won’t be all roses and chocolates but…” he sighed, shaking his head, “they’ll figure it out.”

“You will too,” she promised him, smiling through the tears that were starting to fill her eyes. Saying anything else seemed too painful. Sam released her shoulder, watching her walk away towards the weird blue box.

She only glanced back once before walking inside. The Doctor waved and shut the door.

He didn’t wait to see her disappear. It wasn’t like he’d never see her again.

*****

Dawn broke over the quiet residential street as smoke was still rising from the half-burnt-out shell of your home. Sitting in the backseat of the Impala, you watched the officers picking through the debris; they’d told you to come back later on in the day to retrieve any belongs that weren’t destroyed.

“You wanna head back to the motel?” Dean asked, distracting you from your staring. Mollie stirred in your arms, curling into your chest and burying her nose in the shirt that belonged to her father. The paramedics had cleaned and dressed your wounds, pressing you to attend hospital but you declined.

All you wanted was to sleep.

“Yeah,” you whispered, shifting Mollie.

Dean turned the ignition on and pulled the car away from the house you’d no longer call home.

The motel was a few miles down the road and no one spoke as Dean drove slowly, glancing in the rearview every five seconds as if you might disappear. You stared out the window, half-lidded eyes indicating your exhaustion and when you arrived, Dean helped you out of the car, understanding your need to not let Mollie go.

Sam grabbed the bags from the trunk of the Impala, following you and his brother into the room. You immediately made a beeline for the furthest bed, easing Mollie down as she slept, making a barrier out of the pillows to stop her falling.

“You wanna take a shower?” Dean asked quietly, his eyes on his daughter.

“I don’t want to leave her,” you admitted, exhaustion seeping through your bones.

“Then shower tomorrow. Go wash up and leave the door open.” He touched your arm gently. “I’ll get you some fresh clothes.” Nodding, you turned away, hesitating at the doorway to the bathroom and glancing back at Mollie. “It’s okay,” Dean soothed, slowly lowering himself onto the bed next to the baby, “you can talk to me the whole time if you want.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “Thank you,” you whispered and Dean smiled back.

Thirty minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom, feeling much cleaner. The pain in your leg and from the various other cuts was still causing you trouble - the painkillers Sam offered you would go some way to easing that but sleep was the most appealing of all.

Dean moved to get up but you shook your head, noticing how far Mollie had rolled over toward the only source of heat. “Stay there,” you whispered, removing the pillow barricade and settling in where you’d originally placed your daughter. She stretched out on her back between you and you smiled, the thought of nearly losing her bringing fresh tears to your eyes.

“Hey,” Dean murmured, “you’re okay.”

“You can stop telling me that,” you giggled, meeting his gaze. Mollie cooed in her sleep, one chubby fist almost getting Dean in the face and he caught it, smiling as he covered her tiny belly with the palm of his huge hand. “God, she looks so tiny like that.”

You yawned widely and Dean smiled, shifting a little on the bed. “Sleep,” he said quietly, “I’ll watch over you both.”

*****

The next few days passed in a non-stop blur of salvaging your life. Sorting out the house, the insurance - everything was adult stuff you were barely sure how to manage but Sam and Dean were there every single step of the way. The first task was the hardest, returning to your gutted home, picking through the debris of what you’d tried to build.

Mollie’s stroller was unscathed, hidden away in the downstairs closet and you retrieved that first, securing Mollie inside so you had your hands free. Sam had gone to Walmart at some point when you’d been resting, picking up what you were sure consisted of the entirety of their baby aisle.

It was long hard work and by the third day, between the three of you, what could be saved had been saved.

“It’s getting dark,” Dean murmured, pushing Mollie toward the car in her stroller. You nodded, giving your house one last lingering look. “We’ll stay the night at the motel then head back to the bunker in the morning.”

“The bunker?” you asked, looking at him.

He paused with one hand on the rear door of the Impala, frowning at you. “Where else would you go?”

Your eyes darted to Mollie, who blew a snot bubble out of her nose and giggled when it popped. “I guess I hadn’t thought that far ahead. The insurance guys said the house should be covered -”

“So, keep the money. Put it in a college fund for Mollie,” Dean shrugged, opening the car door. He swooped down, tickling Mollie as he lifted her from the buggy and she shrieked back in excitement. You couldn’t help smiling at the interaction between them - Dean was completely and utterly in love with his daughter.

“The bunker isn’t…” You hesitated, unsure how to phrase it. “It’s not exactly family-friendly.”

Dean didn’t reply, too busy securing Mollie in her car seat - an accessory you were sure the Impala never would have seen - as she kept trying to pull his hair. Her chubby little hands slapped against his forehead, leaving wet smears that didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest.

“That’s what baby-proofing is for,” he said, standing straight and shutting the door, poking his tongue out at Mollie. Stepped toward you, he placed his hands on your shoulders, smiling. “I need you safe. I need you with me.” He paused, touching your cheek gently. “I’m not asking for any more than that.”

You smiled, covering his hand with yours. “The bunker it is.”

*****

Since she was born, Mollie had slept through the night, except for a brief period where she had reflux. Those days had been hard but you were thankful for the contented baby she was. Being at the bunker, with all the noises and distractions, didn’t seem to matter to her one bit.

You, on the other hand, hadn’t slept more than a handful of hours since arriving four days before. Even with Mollie in your room, her brand new crib put together lovingly (and somewhat angrily) by her father and uncle, you hadn’t found much rest.

Abaddon still haunted you.

Her possession had been short-lived but you’d felt the horror of it. Each moment stuck inside your own head, drowning in magic and black smoke, had felt like an eternity; your mind was repeating it over and over.

And then there was Mollie. Adult Mollie.

Had she gone home to the same awful place? Or was that version of Mollie gone, replaced by a version you had yet to meet?

At four-thirty on the morning of the fifth day, Mollie woke loudly and hungrily. You were slow to stir and by the time you’d gotten yourself out of bed, Dean was at the door, worry on his face as he peeked in.

“It’s okay,” you murmured, yawning as you reached into the crib, “she’s just hungry.”

Dean nodded, lingering in the doorway. “You get any sleep?”

You shrugged. “An hour or so,” you replied sleepily, carrying Mollie back to the bed and settling down to feed her. Dean watched quietly, not moving when you looked up at him with tired eyes. “You wanna stay? I could use the company.”

Slipping into the room, Dean closed the door, padding over to the bed on the opposite side to you. The bed dipped as he sat down, pulling his legs up, angling his torso toward you. His gaze dropped to Mollie and that small smile he seemed to have reserved only for her appeared on his lips.

“I keep thinkin’ I’m gonna wake up,” he murmured, reaching over to press his fingers against the baby’s tiny left foot - she cooed and sighed happily as she fed. “That this is a dream and it’ll all be over.”

“You want it to be a dream?” you asked, giving him an odd look.

“No,” Dean said softly, smiling at you, “and if it is, I don’t wanna wake up.” He sighed, leaning his head against the headboard. “Never thought I’d be a dad.”

You smiled back, stretching out your free hand to take his. The boundaries of your relationship had yet to be established - your focus was on Mollie and how she was adjusting and your own personal feelings hadn’t exactly been clear. Okay, you’d always love Dean but the trust between you had been shattered, despite knowing it hadn’t been his fault.

Mostly.

“You’re a really good dad, if that helps,” you offered and he grinned, looking a little bashful.

“Do you -” Stopping dead, he visibly reconsidered his pending question, forcing the smile back onto his face. “Nevermind.”

“Maybe,” you whispered, knowing what he’d wanted to ask. “There’s a chance and I know that not everything that happened was your fault. But…” You looked down at Mollie. “You hurt me, Dean. For a good reason or not… and I have to put Mollie first.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less,” Dean murmured, no malice in his voice. “I’m not gonna push for anything, Y/N.” He shifted, his voice lowering a little. “I just need you to know… I nearly lost you. I did what I thought was best,” you sucked in a breath, keeping your eyes on him, even as they began to water, “and I should have just been honest with you.”

“Honest about what?”

Seconds ticked by as Dean tried to organize the words in his head. You waited patiently, cheeks burning. Mollie shifted, her feeding tapering off as she started to fall asleep again.

With a sigh, Dean closed his eyes for a second. “When we were together before, I should have told you that I only felt happy when I was with you. No matter what we were doing, as long as it was with you, everything felt okay. But I was scared.” He looked away, fiddling with the corner of the sheet. “Without throwing a pity party, things like that haven’t always gone so great in the past.”

“That’s not your fault, Dean.”

“I’m not entirely blameless,” he confessed, “and I’m not here either. I don’t remember what happened that night but I got a pretty clear picture from what V -” He swallowed, shaking his head. “I should have apologized.”

“What she did was wrong, Dean. She assaulted you.”

Dean nodded, his eyes watering. “I know. I know that. And I’m not… I’m not ready to talk about it.” Instinctively, you reached out, touching his face gently - he leaned into the touch, letting his eyes fall closed as one tear slipped free. You wiped it away with your thumb. “I just need to say it. Say I’m sorry for pushing you away, for treating you like… like you were…”

“I get it,” you whispered, cutting him off, withdrawing your hand. It still hurt, even with an apology and you knew Dean understood it would take more than that. Before you could pull away entirely, he caught you hand, squeezing it firmly.

“I love you, Y/N. I need you to know that,” his tongue darted out to wet his lips, “even if you already do.” He lifted your fingers to his lips, kissing them softly. “She’s asleep.”

You looked down, seeing Mollie asleep with only her fist covering your modesty and you smiled, pulling your shirt up, careful not to disturb her. Sliding off of the bed, you padded over to the crib, placing the baby softly down onto her covers. She curled inward, one hand tucked under her head.

Dean moved, stopping at the other side, gazing down at her. “You already gave me the world, Y/N. As long as you and her are safe and happy, I’m happy.”

Meeting his gaze, you gave him a little smile, nodding in reply because if you opened your mouth, you were afraid you might cry. For months, you’d wanted nothing more than him to open up to you, to tell you the truth, to return the feelings you’d carried for so long…

Now, you didn’t know what to say.

“I should get back to bed,” he announced suddenly, turning away toward the door, “get some sleep, Y/N.”

“Dean -” You reached out for a brief second before drawing your hand back. He stopped, looking back at you. “I haven’t been sleeping well. Nightmares.” Shrugging, you rubbed one hand against the opposite arm. “Would you stay? Just until I fall asleep.”

Dean smiled, moving back toward you, coming to a stop a foot or so away. “As long as you need me, sweetheart.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

Mollie was smothered in pie. From head to toe, red sticky goo covered her, and one chubby fist was shoved in her mouth, her grin wider than any you’d seen before. Dean laughed as he swooped in with a wet cloth, carefully cleaning the toddler up and trying not to get any pie on himself.

“You can’t blame her,” you chided, “she’s your daughter. Of course she loves pie.”

“I don’t smother myself in it,” Dean defended, catching the last spot of red on Mollie’s cheek. “She’s gonna need a bath.” You stretched back in your chair and he chuckled. “Let me guess - you’re not it.”

“She only screams when I do it,” you complained. “She’s a daddy’s girl.”

Dean grinned. “Damn straight.”

“Da!” Mollie squeaked. “Da! Da! Da!”

“I still think she’s swearing,” Sam muttered, walking in with a book and a cup of coffee.

“She’s saying “Dad”,” Dean insisted, unbuckling Mollie from her seat and holding her at arm’s length. “Ugh, you’re sticky.” She giggled and squealed, reaching for him with chubby little fists grabbing. Dean tilted his head and sighed. “C’mon, trouble.”

The high-pitched giggles grew slightly louder as Dean walked her out of the kitchen; Sam took the seat opposite you, grimacing at the mess of pie his niece had splattered everywhere. You leaned on the edge of the table, smiling dopily at the doorway.

“You gonna tell him?” Sam asked and you blinked, glancing at him in confusion. “Dean. You gonna tell him?”

“Tonight,” you replied. “I just didn’t want anything to ruin the afternoon, y’know.”

Sam scoffed, shaking his head. “You two are unbelievable. Why would telling Dean you love him ruin the afternoon?”

You shrugged, looking down at your hands. “He might not feel the same way anymore.”

“Y/N,” Sam started, a derisive tone to his voice, “Dean didn’t fall out of love with you when he hadn’t seen you for over a year. Now, he sees you every day and I can guarantee he loves you even more for it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Sam rolled his eyes, leaning forward, avoiding the sticky mess on the tabletop. “Because I’ve had four weeks of nothing but you two making googly eyes at each other and I’m sick of it. You were easier to live with when you weren’t pining over each other.” You smiled, huffing a little laugh as Sam sat back, satisfied with his speech.

“I’ll let that slide for now,” you murmured, hearing Mollie shriek in joy, the sound quickly followed by Dean’s dismayed cry.

“Just keep the noise down,” Sam grumbled, opening his book.

*****

You lingered in the doorway of your bedroom, smiling as Dean put Mollie to bed. She wiggled and squeaked, still wanting to play and you watched as Dean scolded her lovingly, tucking her in and running his finger along the bridge of her nose. The trick helped and Mollie started to drift off.

Turning away, Dean’s soft singing followed you to his room and you left the door ajar, stripping down to your underwear and sitting on the bed, waiting. A few moments later, his footsteps echoed along the corridor and he walked into his room, frowning at you.

“Is everything -” He paused at the sight of you wearing next to nothing. “You’re naked.”

“Well,” you looked down, “almost.”

Dean glanced out into the hall before he closed the door. “What about -”

“Sam has the baby monitor,” you replied, getting to your feet with a smile. “Are you nervous or something, Dean?”

“Or something,” he murmured, closing the space between you, his face lighting up as his hands came to rest on your hips. “You sure about this?”

You nodded, pushing up onto your tiptoes to kiss him softly. “I’m sure. I love you.”

The declaration was met with his hands cradling your cheeks, pulling you into a deeper kiss. It ended quickly, leaving you gasping for breath and staring into Dean’s dark eyes. “God, I love you too,” he whispered, kissing you again before he’d finished his sentence.

Whimpering into his mouth, you grabbed at his pants, unbuckling them without looking and shoving them down over his firm ass. The rough movement made him stumble forward and Dean chuckled, steadying himself.

“Eager?”

“I haven’t had sex for nearly two years,” you deadpanned, “you best bet I’m eager.”

“I haven’t exactly been practicing,” Dean admitted, cheeks a little flushed and you giggled, pulling at his shirt. “But I’’m sure I remember where everything is.” You tugged him closer, switching your positions so his back was to the bed. Planting your hands on his shoulders, you pushed him back and he tripped on his pants, still around his ankles, falling back onto his mattress with a quiet oof.

“I’m sure it’s like riding a bike,” you quipped, reaching behind you to unhook your bra. Dean kicked off his pants, scrambling further onto the bed although he remained horizontal. His knees hooked on the edge of the mattress and you stripped off your panties, climbing over him to straddle his lap.

“Fuck, you’re warm,” he hissed, feeling the heat of your core through his boxers. He reached up, sliding his hands over your belly, over the stretch marks you bore from carrying his child. “Still beautiful.” You could feel the warmth of his skin seeping into yours and you rolled your hips, grinding down against him. “Wish I coulda seen you…”

“I was a whale,” you muttered, pushing his shirt up over his head. Dean lifted his arms to accommodate you. “Like, huge. Gross.”

“Sexy,” he insisted, smirking. “I bet you looked sexy as hell all knocked up.” His hips jerked upward and you giggled, leaning over to kiss him.

“Shut up. I’m not talking about babies now. Not when I’m about to rock your world.”

“Is that right?”

Nodding, you trailed your lips over his jaw, down to his ear, tugging on it gently with your teeth. “Two years, Dean, and every time I touched myself, I thought about you.” Dean groaned, his hands landing on your ass, encouraging the slow rock of your hips. He wasn’t even inside you yet and he was aching to cum. “Had to imagine it was your hand, your fingers, your  _cock_ inside me, fucking me until I came.”

“Jesus fuck, sweetheart,” Dean grunted, “you’re gonna end this party early if you don’t stop.” His fingers clenched on your bare ass and you sat upright, a smug smirk on your lips.

Lifting up, you pulled his boxers down until they were out of the way. Resuming the position with your pussy pressed against his cock, you kept rocking, making Dean roll his eyes back in his head. His jaw tightened and he moaned loudly.

“Tell me what you want,” you hummed, relishing the feel of his velvety head bumping your clit with each roll of your hips.

“You,” Dean breathed, digging his fingers into your thighs, watching you like you were the only thing in the world that existed. “Fuck, I want you, Y/N.”

All it took was a little twist and his cockhead tugged on your entrance, the tip sinking into your soaked depths easily. You lifted, easing back down slowly, repeating the action until he was buried to the hilt. A wrecked whine left your lips and you arched your back when Dean’s length twitched inside you.

“Almost forgot how perfect you feel,” Dean murmured, running his hands back up to cup your breasts as you shuddered on top of him. “How wet, how warm.” He groaned and lifted his hips, making you squeak in surprise. “You’re gonna burn me alive, sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes, you covered his hands where they were cupping your tits together. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

Dean chuckled, letting you pull his hands away from your chest and pinning them either side of his head. “Wouldn’t be a bad way to go,” he commented; you smiled, silencing him with a kiss. While his attention was distracted, you rose up on your knees, sinking back down onto him and swallowing down the decadent moan he released.

“Missed you so much,” you whispered, kissing a path down his jaw as you kept lifting up and lowering back down, picking up speed as your own climax approached. “Fuck, gonna cum, I gotta -”

His reaction was instantaneous - Dean looped his hands under your knees, tilting you and rolling with the momentum. You yelped in surprise, crying out in pleasure when his hips reconnected with yours and his cock hit deeper than before. His body weight pressed you back into the mattress and he started to move.

The sudden onslaught of pleasure made you cum twice as hard as you expected and Dean didn’t stop, fucking you through the climax. Your moans and whimpers were lost on his lips and only a few moments after you’d cum, he was following you over the edge, pumping frantically as he filled you up.

Neither of you moved for a moment, kissing lazily as you both came down from the high.

“Definitely out of practice,” he quipped, groaning as he pulled away. You smirked, closing your legs and watching him cross the room, his bare ass on display.

“You don’t see me complaining,” you replied.

He chuckled, tossing you a towel from the laundry basket and you cleaned up, retrieving your underwear. “Where do you wanna sleep?”

You shrugged, picking your bra up. “I don’t think I’m tired just yet.” Dean’s hand covered yours, taking your bra away and throwing it across the room.

“That’s good,” he murmured, “because I’m not tired either.” He pulled you close and you smiled, feeling his cock already stirring with renewed arousal. With a lazy shrug, he tugged you toward the bed. “We’ve got lost time to make up for.”

*****

“Ow, ow, ow,” you grabbed at your ankle with both hands, leaning against the wall where you’d fallen. “Son of a bitch, that hurts!”

Dean appeared, concern on his face as he saw you sprawled on the bedroom floor. “Everything okay?” he asked, dropping to your side.

“Mollie. Roller-skates.” You glared at the offending toy and Dean chuckled. “Remind me to throttle her with them.”

“Now, now,” he scolded, helping you up, “don’t get your blood pressure up.” The glared transferred to him but he only laughed in response. “C’mon. You shouldn’t be trying to do the chores anyway.”

“I’m pregnant, not an invalid,” you grunted, accepting his help anyway. “And no one else is gonna do it.”

Dean’s face took on a offended expression. “Hey, I help.”

“I know, I know,” you muttered, leaning into him. “I’m tired and grumpy. Your son is using my kidneys for soccer practice. I was so hoping it wouldn’t be a repeat of Henry.” A shrill scream split the air and you groaned in annoyance. “Speak of the devil.”

A small dark-haired shape barreled through the hallway towards them and Dean just about caught his three-year-old son as he made a hasty escape from his big sister. Six-year-old Mollie looked like she was ready to kill and you stepped in front of her.

“Mollie,” you warned, “roller-skates.”

The girl’s eyes went wide and the anger drained from her face. “I’m sorry, Mom! Henry took my Twilight and he won’t tell me what he did with her!”

Henry struggled against his father’s hold, screeching with laughter. “I diden! I diden! Mollie is a lair.”

“Liar,” Dean corrected. “Where’s Uncle Sam? He was on babysitting duty while I was out.”

Mollie folded her arms across her chest, lifting her nose into the air. “His girlfriend called.” She sounded less than pleased and Dean grinned, glancing over at you.

“Still don’t like her, huh?” you said, dropping down to Mollie’s level, wincing as the Winchester spawn in your belly aimed a kick at your bladder. There was a good chance you’d pee if you stood up too quickly. Or if you crouched for too long.

Hell, you were probably going to wet yourself at some point. The joys of kids.

“She calls me “munchkin”. I’m not a munchkin!” Mollie complained. “I’m a princess!”

“It’s only a term of affection,” you assured her, taking her hand. “Look, Eileen is a lovely person and Uncle Sam loves her. She loves him too and if it makes them happy, we shouldn’t interfere.” Dean snorted and you glared at him again.

“What Mommy means,” he continued, keeping his eyes locked on yours, “is that just because Uncle Sam loves Eileen, doesn’t mean he loves you any less.”

Mollie’s bottom lip wobbled. “But I heard Uncle Sam say they was gonna have a baby and they think it’s a girl. So I won’t be the only princess anymore.” She looked so distraught that you couldn’t help but smile at the innocence of it all.

“Oh, baby, you’ll always be our princess. And you’ll always be Uncle Sam’s princess. He’ll just have two!” You smiled, pulling her a little closer. “There’s plenty of love to go around. Plus, your new baby brother will have a friend his age.”

“So I won’t have to share my toys with them?” she asked.

“No,” Dean chuckled. “And we’ll find out what Henry did with your pony.”

“Thank you, Daddy!” Mollie squealed, throwing her arms around your neck and you groaned, wincing as you nearly lost your balance. “Sorry, Mommy!”

“It’s okay,” you grimaced, getting to your feet, “how about you come help Mommy watch some television while she ices her ankle.” You paused, chewing the inside of your cheek. “After you’ve put your roller-skates away.”

“Okay!”

Trauma forgotten, Mollie skipped off to perform her job and Dean tickled the boy in his arms. “How about we go retrieve your sister’s toy and we’ll have a manly chat about respecting boundaries.” Henry apparently thought that was a swell idea and threw both fists in the air, one just shy of hitting Dean’s nose. Dean laughed, leaning in to kiss you as he passed. “Get some rest, missy, before I tie you down.”

“That’s not a great incentive,” you giggled back, slapping his behind.

“Goddamn I love the second trimester,” he groaned, carrying Henry off down the corridor.

You stood, alone in the corridor, smiling as you rubbed a hand over your belly. Even now, you still thought of the Mollie you’d met, the brave independent young woman that you were seeing shine through in your daughter already. If she was half the woman she’d been in that timeline, you’d be proud.

“Mommy?” Mollie’s voice drew you out of your thoughts. “You’re staring.”

“Sorry, honey,” you murmured, “I was thinking.”

“What about?” she asked inquisitively and you smiled.

“You,” you replied. “I was thinking about you.”

“Awww,” Mollie smiled and flung her arms around your waist, smooshing her face into your pregnant belly. “I hope this one isn’t as annoying as Henry.” You laughed, stroking one hand over her smooth hair.

“C’mon,” you coaxed, “let’s go watch something Disney.”

 


End file.
